Memories
by Thaumaturgy
Summary: A chance encounter years after high school brings back old memories.


**Memories**

Summary: A chance encounter years after high school brings back old memories.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Dammit…Well, a girl can dream.

* * *

**Kyo**

Voices, from outside. Laughter, clear and crystalline, and a deeper, murmured reply. I walk to my window and see her. Him. Them. Together, her hand in his, smiling, and an easy, open grin on his face that he only gets when she's around. I want to turn away, even begin to blot out the image with the curtain strung across the glass, but I can't. My eyes are glued to them, their happiness, and the ache grows, so that I grimace in pain.

Why are they walking this way? It's not a conscious decision, I'm sure; just another immeasurably cruel trick of fate.

She laughs again and his hand reaches up to run pale fingers through her hair, and his head leans down to kiss her, but then his eyes flick up to see my face in the window and he abruptly stops, straightening again and meeting my brown eyes with his violet ones. I know what he's thinking, and I wish I didn't. His eyes tell me of bittersweet happiness, that he won what he was fighting for in the one way he didn't want to, and pity, and that he's, oddly enough, sorry. For a moment the old anger flickers back, and I embrace it. It's different now; before, I crawled into my anger, let it deal with the world and people around me so I wouldn't have to, but now it's a lifeline, a reminder of who I once was and a way to become him again, if only for the briefest of seconds.

My eyes travel down to meet hers, kind and warm and a little puzzled, and the anger trickles away. I know I should stop looking at her; the one thing that sustains me is that she's happy, she doesn't remember, but I'm seized by a memory; her eyes were the same as they are now, and she wore a sundress that was whipped about by the wind, and her hair

_flows freely down her shoulders, whipped about by the breeze on top of the roof as she walks across it, arms held out to the side a little to balance her. A good thing, too; even in our last year of high school, she's still one of the clumsiest people I've ever met. She sits beside me, reaches out to touch my shoulder, draws her hand back._

_"Kyo?"_

_I turn, look at her, silently marvel that an angel has found me worthy enough to spend time with. I have to tell her, have to say something; for so long, things have been bubbling up inside of me, threatening to break loose, and, considering my luck, if I don't say something now they'll burst out just when it will be most humiliating; right in front of the idiot dog and rat, no doubt._

_"Um...er…" I have to do this. I have to. No matter what Akito says, no matter what I think my reception will be, I have to. _

_"Tohru…um…doyouwannagooutwithmeorsomethingsometime?" Damn. _

_She looks at me silently, and I pray to whoever could possibly be listening that she at least understood what I said. I can't say it again, I can't…She's still silent. I can't stand it anymore. I stand abruptly and walk away, pretending not to hear her cry of "Kyo!" behind me. I hate myself for doing this to her, for walking away again, for screwing up the one thing I really care about, more than beating Yuki, more than anything. _

_I tear through the house, ignoring the dog's admonishing taunt, ignoring the rat looking up from his book to make a derogatory comment as usual. I know they're surprised that I don't respond, but I don't care, and I only stop when I'm out in the forest behind the house, pounding a tree with my fist._

_"Kyo?"_

_I turn, surprised, and run into Tohru, who is somehow right behind me. I didn't know she could run that fast. My arms instinctively go out to keep from falling and before I know it, I'm a small orange cat cradled in her arms. Great. The only thing that could make this day worse has now happened._

_"Um…Kyo?"_

_I look up into Tohru's face, larger now but no less beautiful, and want to run away again, but I can't this time. I'm caught by my curse, trapped here to face whatever she has in store. _

_Tohru continues without me saying anything, and I notice for the first time that her cheeks are flushed by more than just running to catch me. "I'd…I'd like to."_

_I can't process her words for a moment, and just as they hit me I change back, so that she squeaks and covers her eyes hurriedly. I change quickly, and put a tentative hand on her arm. "Do you…mean it? Really?"_

_She uncovers her eyes, nods, and I keep talking…I can't believe it. I was so ready to be turned down, so prepared for it…but she's not?_

_"Like as…boyfriend and girlfriend? You…want that?"_

_She nods again, her face down, and then turns it up to mine. I am warmed, and a little blinded, by her smile._

_"What about Yuki?"_

_As soon as the words are out of my mouth I curse. I can't believe I just said that…but maybe it had to be said. It's an undeniable fact that he's a near tangible presence here, that it is either me or him. _

_She looks down again, and says softly, "I…choose you, Kyo." And then she smiles again, and I run a shaky hand though her hair, exhaling, stunned, relieved beyond all belief. She chose me. She chose me._

Now, her forehead creases for a moment, and I tear my gaze away, watching from the corner of my eye as he leans over her, concerned, and then walks away, her hand still firmly, gently, in his, and I am left there, watching as they walk away. Slowly, and far too late, I draw the curtain over the window, and am left to search desperately for anger, to keep me from fading away.

* * *

**Yuki**

We're walking to the main house when it happens. She is laughing merrily, clear sounds that ring through the woods. I lift a hand to touch her hair, soft and fine, and lean down to kiss her, and see him. He is looking from a window, half his face covered by a curtain. His eyes are painful to watch, and I can't look away; they are sad beyond all belief, with none of the old anger left; just regret, and loneliness. I want to say I'm sorry for winning this way, but I can't. He knew what my choice would be, and accepted it, and knew that he would do the same if he were in my shoes. But he wasn't, and isn't, even though that could be one of the only things he's ever really wanted. Not what he wanted the most, though. He beat me in the one war I cared about, and then he was taken away at the finish line and the runner-up was left with the prize.

I remember the last time I saw him; it was right before they took him away, a sort of farewell, and sorry-we're-about-to-ruin-your-life party. She wasn't there; it had happened by that time, and she was lying in her room, asleep. He sat by the window, looking out angrily, and he didn't move as I

_approach him, not knowing what I expect him to do, or what I expect to accomplish._

_"Go away, Rat," he tells me without turning, and for the first time, I think I understand him, at least a little. _

_"Why did you do it?" I ask, standing there, arms crossed._

_He snorts. "I thought you'd be happy. Here's your big chance; I won't be there to get in your way. She was always half in love with you anyway."_

_I want to hit him, hard, but I don't. "You expect me to believe you did this for me?"_

_He looks at me for a brief moment, and I see the beginnings of pain in his eyes, but don't turn away. "I did it for her."_

_  
"She didn't want it."_

_"I know, dammit!" His voice softens, and I know that he is seeing her as she was, and as she is now. "But…I want her to be happy."_

_I can read the unspoken words behind his admission; even if she's with you. "It was selfish." But even as I say it, I know it's a lie. He is giving up his life, and, what's worse, giving it to me, and he knows it. He knows that I won't push her, won't change, but just be there as she adjusts to a life that's missing someone she no longer remembers, and that will be enough. She was always half in love with me, and all in love with him; but with him gone, I will be left. And she will be happy with that, and so, then, will he, even if it kills him. But will I? I don't know, and I intend to think about it only when I have to. Now, I just say, "I'll miss you," and marvel at the fact that the statement is actually true, and walk away._

Beside me, Tohru's forehead creases and I turn to her, worry erasing all else. "Are you all right?"

She nods, and we keep walking, our fingers intertwined, and I realize that the window is out of sight; but he is still here, a pair of brown eyes filled with sorrow, and a flash of old anger. Am I happy?

* * *

**Tohru**

We're walking to the main house, hands clasped, laughing. I'm so happy, so, so happy, as Yuki leans in to kiss me, but then he stops, and looks over my shoulder, his eyes so sad. I turn too, and see a person. A young man, half his face and orange hair and one pained brown eye hidden behind the curtain. Yuki holds his gaze, his hand tightening on mine briefly, then loosening. The young man's eyes locks on mine, and I am drawn to them, and feel so, so sad, and I don't even know

_brown eyes laughing crying sad hopeful disbelieving_

the reason why, and then I am struck with the image, real, solid, of a boy with a shock of orange hair standing on a roof, tearing heedlessly through a house, punching a tree, his face contorted with anger, and I gasp a little, and Yuki leans over me, worried, breaking my view of the man in the window. We walk on, images disorganized in my head, and I have to ask, have to know.

"Yuki? Who was that? In the window?"

His grip tightens again as he says, "The cat,"

_small orange frowning cradled in arms; mine?_

in a voice that seems carefully blank.

"Did…did I know him?"

I don't know why I ask. I've never met the cat; know almost nothing about him, except that he lives

_Imprisoned trapped_

in the inner complex. Beside me, Yuki stops walking, seems to freeze, and

_Hatori-san comes at me, his face solemn, more than usual, and for a moment I feel hope. "Hatori-san! Please, help Kyo, tomorrow they're taking him away, help, please…"_

_Tears run down my face, and I ignore them. They can't take him away. They can't. Maybe I'm being selfish; no, I know I'm being selfish, but didn't Kyo say it's okay to be selfish sometimes, and they can't take him away because I love him and he needs to stay with me._

Hatori sighs, stretches hands towards me, says "Tohru…" in a heavy voice, and I think he's going to help us until I realize that his hands rest on my temples. I know what will happen. No. No.

_"Hatori-san?" My voice is small, and he is sad._

_"I'm sorry, Tohru. I hoped I would never have to do this."_

_"No! Please, don't…"_

_"Kyo asked me to." And with that, my mouth drops open, and I feel my memories of him run away, and this time I can't run fast enough to catch them, and I drop to my knees in snow._

I'm crying, and I'm not sure why, and Yuki wipes away a tear with a gentle finger, and exhales heavily. "No. You've never met him, Tohru."

My tears stop, as if by magic, and I see that we have moved past the window of the man who I have never met but who knows martial arts and turns into an orange cat and once in a dream lay in my arms as a cat and ran tan fingers through my hair. But it was a dream. And I'm here with Yuki, and the cat is gone, and our fingers are intertwined, and I'm happy.


End file.
